Never Walk Away
by ApocalypsePony316
Summary: The power of love is an amazing thing...Snape's not letting his best friend go without a fight!
1. Midnight's Plea

Disclaimer: If I owned HP, we'd have chopped Snape with a bit more dignity. But alas...

**A/N: **I haven't the slightest idea how this will turn out. Younger Snape may sound a lot like Older Snape...just because I can't imagine Snape talking like a normal teenager. Ignore this if it bothers you. )

------------------------------------------

Never Walk Away 

I. Midnight's Plea

The snow coating Hogwarts castle and its grounds was glistening brightly under the December moon. A gentle breeze soared through, singing softly in the thick bare trees that clustered the Forbidden Forest. The only blight on the cold, clear evening was the steady furling of smoke, rising in loopy spirals from the chimney in Hagrid's hut. Despite the late hour...the soft ticking of a wristwatch revealed it to be close to midnight...warm, yellow light spilled from the gamekeeper's cabin, illuminating the silent postcard scene outside.

Almost silent...for at that moment, a soft curse echoed from a large pile of wood stacked haphazardly a few feet away from Hagrid's front door. At that moment, the moon peeked hesitantly from behind a smoky-colored cloud, bathing the intruder in a silvery glare.

Thick, greasy black hair hung in a blinding curtain around his pale face. He sat cross-legged on the icy and muddy ground, peering through the gaps in the logs of wood with emotionless black eyes. Gritting his teeth against the general discomfort of his hideaway...and his ever-mounting impatience with the way things were going, he leaned back on his palms and observed the velvety sky.

It wasn't as though he _chose _to be here, of course...but he couldn't risk waiting in the castle, not with blasted Slughorn materializing at every given opportunity and precious, misunderstood Lupin strutting about, Head Boy badge gleaming on his tattered robes.

No. It was much better here. Where he could think...and watch.

How long had he been out here? His long, thin fingers were numb with frost, and the back of his robes were sopping wet. How many times could you go over a Quidditch match before the details lost their splendor? There were only so many words you could use to describe the thrill of catching the Snitch...

He tensed, suddenly alert as a short blast of noise sounded from the hut, but it was only Hagrid's booming laugh. The taut muscles relaxed...they wouldn't be too much longer. He leaned back once again, this time pulling a small object from his robes. It was a tiny golden pin, shaped like a miniscule snake. He fingered it almost lovingly, anxiously, as he waited…

A moment later, the door creaked open, and Hagrid's gigantic, bushy frame stood silhouetted, quite alone, on the steps. "Now, be off with yeh. An' take care ta hide yer feet!"

A snicker of laugher, followed shortly by a much softer giggle, sounded from apparently nowhere...that blasted Cloak. Just something else Potter needed, a reason to make him feel more important...

They were once again plunged into blackness as Hagrid closed his door. The only proof that anyone was there at all was the soft floundering of snow as two pairs of feet moved slowly through the deep drifts. The progress was visible all the way up to the castle courtyard...and then a skulking shadow emerged from the woodpile, threw a quick glance at the cabin, and followed.

He stayed a reasonable distance behind them, but close enough to keep them within sight. Unlike the Do-No-Wrong Quidditch Hero, he was much more adept at sneaking around unnoticed. It was a trick of the trade when you ran round with blokes like Avery and Mulciber. He gave a very visible shudder, the horror of what they would say to him...what they would think of him...

But he wasn't that far yet. He had one more very important step to take. Should he succeed...well, he would worry about that later. Besides, the good would far outweigh the bad. Or so he hoped.

The pair under the cloak had reached the huge oak doors that led into the castle. Loud, unmasked whispers danced across the sweeping lawn...so unimpressed by rules, Potter was almost daring someone to catch them! How dare he take her out like that, risking getting her in trouble?

The darkened hallways through the castle were deserted, silent as graveyards. This, of course, did nothing but fuel Potter's arrogance. Not bothering to lower his voice, he began telling a loud and boastful story of a time when he and Black had sneaked out for a late-night fly...oh, if the Headmaster were to find out...

The cloaked couple and their undetected guest made it all the way up to Gryffindor tower without meeting a single soul. Now hidden in the corridor that led to the entrance of their common room, Potter's haughty voice rang out clearly. "So you reckon we're in the clear?"

His answer was a soft, tinkling laugh...from the edge of the passageway, their observant follower made a low noise in his throat as Lily Evans said quietly, "Really, James. Could you be more pigheaded?"

"If you wanted me to. I thought that's what you liked about me. And I'll have you know that I'm not pigheaded, I'm confident in my abilities to wreck havoc and mischief without getting caught. Does that make it sound better?"

A low and angry snarl came from the corner, but it was lost in the swish of watery fabric as the cloak was thrown off. James Potter, tall and raven-haired, made a big job of folding the cloak and setting it in a corner. Then he turned, grinning, to the girl behind him. "Now, where was I?"

"I believe you were cooking up some cock-and-bull story about how your over-inflated head was supposed to attract me," Lily's shining green eyes were dancing in the strips of moonlight filtering in from the high windows. "Or something of that sort."

"Ah, yes...you're not telling me I'm wrong with that, are you?"

Lily gave him a dazzling, pure smile. "I suppose you'll have to work that one out for yourself."

Even under cover of darkness, the intense and blazing look on James's face was hard to miss. "I intend to do just that," he said sincerely, placing his hands on Lily's shoulders and backing her against the stone wall. One hand curled around a tuft of her bright red hair, the other resting on her chin, James tilted her head up, and from a corner there was a noise of revulsion...of pure hatred...

"Shame you don't have her on a broomstick, Potter. She might be so scared that snogging you just might pale in comparison."

The two of them leapt guiltily away at the sound of the low, smooth voice. Then James Potter let out an indignant "Oi!" and Lily, blushing furiously to the roots of her smooth copper hair, said in a tone of complete astonishment, "Severus?"

Snape strode into the moonlight, an eternal sneer etched onto his sallow face as he leered at James. "Shouldn't you and your loyal array of _friends..." _he spat out the word as though it scalded his tongue, "be out terrorizing the village? The moon is close to being full…glorious night for an excursion."

James's face had drained of color. "I'd be careful if I were you, Snivellus, if you like your nose the shape it is. Don't see why you would, it's so greasy…"

Snape went for his wand, and was closely mirrored by James. Before either had the time to raise them, however, Lily had flung herself between them, brilliant green eyes wide with shock and fright. "Stop this! Both of you, or we'll all get detention!" she gave James a stern look, and he seemed to be having a painful internal struggle. However, he slowly lowered his wand.

"And you, Severus…what do you want?"

Want? He wanted a lot of things, none of which he was about to tell her here, in front of this pompous idiot. "I want to talk to you," he said, his sleek voice taking on...for the first time in a long time...an ounce of gentleness. His haunting eyes were fixed firmly on Lily, not allowing James's glare to affect him.

"Talk to her? You've got a lot of nerve…" but James Potter stopped in the middle of his sentence as Lily reached out and lightly touched his shoulder.

"It's all right, James."

Snape felt his whole body tense in anticipation…he had been very wary of this moment, knowing that the chances of Lily allowing him to speak his piece were very slim indeed. But then again, he had been just as sure that she would grant him the chance…didn't he, after all, know her better than anyone?

"But Lily…"

"James, please. Why don't you wait for me in the common room?" and she gave him a gentle push, pleading etched onto her lovely face. He stood stubbornly for another second, and then gave in, planting a swift kiss on her cheek before vanishing through the portrait hole.

Snape shuddered in disgust. Lily noticed; her eyes narrowed into slits, and she crossed her arms defiantly across her chest as she stared at him.

There was an awkward moment of silence, as Snape fidgeted furiously with his robes and Slytherin badge. When the silence became almost deafening, he murmured unnecessarily, "I want to talk to you."

"So you've said," Lily said tonelessly. "What about?"

But he made no move to enlighten her; he ran his fingers over the warm wood of his wand, and then said very unexpectedly, "It's nearly midnight. You were out very late...do you realize what sort of trouble you could've gotten into had you been caught?"

She raised one eyebrow appraisingly. "You followed us all the way back to the tower to scold me for being out late?" her tone suggested she very much doubted it. "Practicing for the Head Boy badge that's so eluded you? Speaking of which, if Remus catches you out here he won't be pleased..."

"I am not concerned with the werewolf!" Snape snapped; at once he seemed to regret his words, for Lily's friendly face had contorted with badly-suppressed dislike.

"Are you never going to let it die? Why do you still torment them when you know how badly it hurts? What happened to the Severus I knew in the first year? What happened to my best friend?"

This, it seemed, was just too much. Displaying more emotion than he'd shown all evening, Snape took a step forward and caught Lily's wrist in his thin fingers. "And what happened to mine?" he hissed. "What happened to the Lily Evans I knew? The one who realized that Potter is an arrogant toerag? She would never have been caught snogging slime like that!"

Lily's face blushed crimson, and she jerked her hand out of his grasp. "He's changed!" she insisted, although she avoided Snape's face. "But you'll never see that, you're determined to hate him!"

"So it is possible for him to change, and impossible for me?"

"But you _did _change Sev!" she cried out. "For the worst! The Severus I knew when I was ten would never have...he wouldn't..." she trailed off, her lip trembling, and her eyes darted around the narrow corridor, remembering that night so long ago...

As though he could read her mind, Snape said quietly, "It was two years ago, Lily. And I would still do my best to apologize, if I thought you would listen..."

"I know it was two years ago, Sev! But what good is that to me? What good is it to you, since you're still on the same path you were then? No, Severus," she shook her head sadly. "You didn't change for the better, and no one wishes you had more than me..."

Snape stood still as marble for a very long time, and then whispered, "What if you're wrong?" and then eased his hand inside his robes.

Lily, understandably expecting something very bad, cringed when he withdrew his hand. But he was merely holding a small and shiny pin; it glittered brightly against his pale skin. "This is for you," Snape said quietly, holding it out to her. Lily, despite herself, took it.

It was in the shape of a tightly-coiled snake, tiny ridges etched along its body and one gleaming pearl where the eye should be. Lily ran one smooth finger along it, puzzled. And then it hit her with the force of a train. Looking up, terror visible in her emerald eyes, she gasped, "Severus...is this...but this can't be...You-Know-Who's sign?"

"No!" Snape rushed to reassure her. "Well...not quite. It does represent the Dark Side, although not the Dark Lord himself. It is a symbol of a small group that supports You-Know-Who while at school, until they can join the Death Eaters. Lucius Malfoy left this to me when he graduated."

The horror on Lily's face was heart wrenching. "Why are you giving it to me?" she demanded, trying frantically to force it back into his hands. "I want nothing to do with the Dark Side!"

"No! Lily, wait...listen to me!" and the intensity of his voice stopped her. He had a hold of her arms, gripping tightly, as he said, "I'm giving it to you so _I _won't have it! Keep it, destroy it...do what you wish, but as long as you have it, it will not represent me! I will not be associated with it!"

She was looking at him in amazement and disbelief. "You're just going to...going to abandon them, just like that? Avery, Mulciber, Nott...all of them? Will they even let you?"

Snape wasn't entirely sure to the answer himself, so he settled for, "They'll have to. I'm done."

Moonlight illuminated Lily's flushed cheeks as she stared at the trinket in her hands. Then she looked up into Snape's face, and his eye gave the slightest twitch. Lily heaved a sigh, turned her gaze to the high window, and said matter-of-factly, "James asked me to marry him."

Whatever Snape had been expecting, it certainly wasn't this. The little color that had tinged his cheeks when Lily looked at him had vanished, and he sputtered indignantly, "But...Lily...how can...no! I won't allow it! He's not..." but he stopped, because the look on Lily's face was quelling. He knew better than to try and dictate anything she said or did. If he hadn't managed it when they were best friends, he certainly wouldn't manage it now.

"I know you won't believe James has changed," Lily said quietly. "If you can't believe it of anyone else, how do you expect me to believe it of you?"

Snape was speechless; mouth agape, he fought for something to say...something to convince her...

A tiny shimmer of hope flared when Lily reached out and took his hand. For a moment, she simply stood there and stared at him, while his heart beat wildly in his chest. Then, she carefully placed the tiny golden pendant in his palm, pulling his fingers down over it. She looked into his eyes once more, sorrow etched onto her face. "You chose your path a long time ago, Severus. I'm sorry," and she turned, giving his hand a barely noticeable squeeze as she said, "It's time to just walk away."

Mind reeling painfully, Snape latched onto her wrist once again, spinning her around and drawing up right up to his face...almost close to enough to kiss...and hissed, "Never!"

But Lily, tears now trailing down her beautiful face, tore away from him and stumbled towards the portrait hole without another word.

Snape stood in the corridor for a very long, staring blankly at the wall. Then, as though being prodded by an invisible hand, he spun around and strode briskly through the castle, down the marble staircase, through the door to the dungeons...

"Oi, where've you been?"

The Slytherin common room was warm with the heat from the fire, its green and silver hangings dancing oddly with the shadows. Snape crossed the room in three huge strides, sinking into an armchair across from the fireplace. From the couch, Mulciber called out to him, "Been harassing Potter again? Don't see why you bother, his head's too thick for anything to penetrate..."

But he wasn't listening. He was staring into the depths of the flames, concentrating hard on memories that no longer seemed to belong to him. Memories of Lily patting him on the back and speaking soothing words as he shook with the terror of a fresh attack by his father...and likewise, memories of her sobbing against his shoulder after a particularly nasty storm of teasing by Potter and his lot. And finally, the most haunting memory of all: being suspended in midair by the ankle, horror overtaking him as he heard his own voice form the dreaded word, _Mudblood. _

Severus Snape pulled the tiny ornament from his robes and pinned it to his vest, out of sight, as the blurry image of the only person who he had ever dared care about...who had ever cared about him...faded into darkness.

---I love a dramatic ending! This was intended to be a one-shot, but I'm thinking I got a couple more chapters in me! Please review!


	2. Over My Head

Disclaimer: No Harry Potter for me. Just the tinkerings in my head.

**A/N:** A special thanks to **paulalou** -&- **Snow Empress**, my islands of happiness in an otherwise reviewless sea! Click the button, you lazies!

---------------------------------------

II. Over My Head

The only source of light in the creaking, abandoned house was a series of guttering, tapered candles, jammed into brackets at regular intervals along the dusty walls. Dust lay thickly upon the wooden floor, muffling the approaching footsteps of a hooded figure who was swathed fully in black.

The arrival was expected, however, for the newcomer had barely raised his hand to tap on the door when a high, ice-cold voice rang out, "Severus! Don't be shy, come in. All of this lurking about like rodents...seems rather foolish."

As he stepped into the room, the hood fell from Snape's head; his gaunt face, though still quite young, had aged before its due. He crept over the threshold, back hunched, so that he could sink into a deep bow as soon as he had entered. "My Lord," he mumbled respectfully.

Seated before the roaring fire in a high-backed chair was none other than Lord Voldemort. His cat-like eyes were trained on Snape intently, but it was with a somewhat light tone that he said, "Well Severus, my invaluable friend. All is well?"

"Yes my Lord, of course," Snape peered up from where he remained in a back-breaking bow, his black eyes wide. Voldemort made a sweeping gesture, inviting the man to get to his feet. Snape obliged, wringing his sweaty hands nervously.

"You have a question, faithful one? Or is this visit merely a whim?"

"There have been...rumors, my Lord," Snape paused here and chanced a glance at Voldemort's high, dispassionate face. "Rumors of the most curious sort..."

"I've found those are usually the most interesting. Do you wish to elaborate?"

Snape took a deep breath, and said haltingly, "They are saying, my Lord, that you have solved the mystery of the prophecy? That you now know of who you seek...?"

"Ah...the prophecy," Voldemort leaned back and stroked the arm of the chair with his long, spidery fingers. "Most revealing, it was. Of course, I have no one to thank for that but you, Severus," and he inclined his head briefly.

Snape almost fell over in his haste to bow again. "I'm most pleased to be of help. But my Lord, if you don't mind my asking...who...?"

"And so you've reached the most exciting part," Voldemort leaned forward, the slits of his eyes agleam in the flickering firelight. "It was rather difficult, Severus, and involved tracking down and interrogations of the most awful sort. But at last we've come upon our answer," he once again sat straight back in the chair, fingers laced as he studied the man before him. "You are aware, I'm sure, of my lingering battle with the Potters? James and Lily?"

Fighting to keep the emotion out of both eyes and voice, Snape admitted jerkily, "Of course, My Lord."

"Then you will be pleased to hear that they have recently celebrated the birth of a baby boy...Harry. He was born on the last day of July, born as..."

"...As the seventh month dies," Snape finished in a horrified whisper. Sounds and sights were starting to melt together as he forced his legs to stay under him...

"Yes," the Dark Lord smiled evilly. "I do believe we've found the subject of the prophecy that you so kindly relayed to me. Now everything that has stood in my path to unstoppable power is within range to be destroyed."

Snape's knees were trembling so badly he was sure he was about to topple over. He forced out the words, "I am glad, my Lord," and then bit down carefully on his tongue, so as not to make a hint of noise...so the Dark Lord would not see his anguish...

"Something troubling you, Severus?"

"No, my Lord," he croaked mechanically, keeping his gaze trained on the dirty floor. But he could feel those piercing red eyes on the back of his head, and knew there was no hope for lies. "The girl," he said finally, "Lily Pot...Lily Evans. She was kind to me. Merciful..." he could not go on, and let any remaining words die in his throat.

There was a moment of thick silence, in which the only movement came from the shimmering flames. Then Voldemort said quietly, "You have been of great help to me, Severus. A faithful Death Eater. Lord Voldemort rewards those faithful to him. Is it your wish of me to spare the girl?"

Heart hammering, Snape looked up quickly, "My Lord...if it would not conflict with your...with your plans..."

"I see no reason for that. The only obstacle that stands in my way, presumably, is the child. That, of course...and the father, to end the line safely. You have no qualms with the disposal of the father, I assume?"

There was no time to haggle, no time to think a way out of it...the only thing that mattered was Lily, and getting her out of this unharmed... "Of course not, my Lord. It is just that the girl...she was..."

"Ah, there is no reason to explain, my dear friend. I am not an unreasonable man. I too understand the concept of companionship and desire...if it is your wish, then I shall spare the girl. Providing the child and man are disposed of, she shall not be touched."

"My Lord...you are merciful," Snape's voice was choked with relief.

"Enough, Severus. Now if that is all, be off with you. I have...preparations to make."

Scurrying forward to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes, Snape gave another low bow and exited quickly. Once safely outside the falling-in old house, he once again felt fear squeezing his lungs...faith in the Dark Lord was not wise...

**--------------------------------**

Dusk was blanketing the quiet, well-kept houses lining the outskirts of the village. Stars were faintly dotting the velvety blue sky, and security lights were buzzing into life, casting pale shadows onto the sidewalks.

Set a bit further back on the street than the rest of the houses stood a small, cozy-looking cottage, soft light spilling from its open windows. It looked quite ordinary; the grass was mowed, and a small and well tended flowerbed colored the edge of the yard, which was enclosed by a fence. The one slight difference was that…unlike the surrounding houses, whose occupants had nearly all returned home for the day…the driveway held no car.

But the house was far from empty; gentle, delighted laughter came drifting out of the windows, accompanied soon after by the lively chatter closely associated with two gossiping women.

It was fortunate, perhaps, that they were so engrossed in their stories; outside, something was stirring near the gate…a striped tabby cat, eye-blindingly orange, was padding along the length of the fence, intending to have a quick claw-sharpening on its favorite fencepost. As soon as it reached its destination, however, it paused; thick orange fur stood on end as the cat gave a low hiss, its yellow eyes fixed on a spot in the yard.

Moments later, it had bolted; under cover of the energetic giggles now floating out from the house, a figure had materialized out of thin air, announced only with a loud _crack! _

Moving stealthy through the darkness, the figure quickly relocated to the side of the little house, where he wasn't visible through the windows or door. Once completely sure he was out of sight, he began to pace like a caged panther, all the pent-up energy and anxiety he'd felt since his earlier meeting fighting to be released as his thoughts swirled like a hurricane.

_This Muggle neighborhood is no good at all…out in the open, she's completely exposed…can't take the risk…_

His hands were trembling uncontrollably…he knew he must look a sight, and probably should have taken the time to gather himself before approaching her. _But there is no time! _he reminded himself furiously as his steps quickened. The Dark Lord would be upon them almost instantly, so great was his desire to rule. _Ever the impatient one, _Snape thought sarcastically. And to believe Voldemort's seemingly-merciful promise to spare Lily's life would be granting her death wish…evil showed no mercy.

Muscles tensed as another gentle laugh carried out into the quiet yard. "…no idea, Mary. You know James and Sirius could carry on like that for days and never grow tired of it. But I do enjoy having company!"

There was movement inside the house…they would be coming out at any moment. Snape paused, pressed into the shadows, listening as his heart beat irregularly. Seconds later, a huge block of light appeared on the darkening lawn as two women came down the steps.

"Thank you so much for coming, Mary. Sometimes I think if he didn't get hungry enough James would never come home!"

Hidden out of sight, Snape felt his throat constrict. It had been so very long…he had forgotten what it was like to hear her voice properly, forgotten the gentleness and sincerity that had once been the only thing that kept him going…and to think that bigheaded git was out gallivanting with Black, when he had such a beautiful witch waiting for him at home! James Potter had never been all there, but this was an act of idiocy even by his standards...

Snape crept quietly to the corner of the house, where he could peer out at the two women who were striding to the gate. The visitor, a rather plump young witch with short dark hair, was telling Lily happily, "Oh, it's my pleasure, and Harry really is the cutest little thing! Spitting image of James, of course..."

"And even more spoiled," Lily finished, a loving lilt in her voice. "Of course, he has eyes for nothing except that stuffed hippogriff Remus sent him...or his best friend. Speaking of which," Lily glanced around the yard, calling, "Here kitty, kitty!" but the cat didn't emerge. "Ah, well..."

"Hate to leave you, Lily, but I really must be getting home..."

"All right, then. Come back soon!" and there was another abrupt _crack _as the witch Disapparated into the night.

It had to be now...she was entirely alone, and the cover of darkness would hide them from prying Muggle eyes. After a calming breath, Snape forced his legs to move, to carry him from his hiding-place. He stepped around the corner of the house just as Lily crossed the yard, heading for the door.

He intended for his tone to be harsh; he could not allow any emotion to crop up now, not at this crucial time. He had a job to do, that was all, and he needed to get this over with so he could get away...

"Lily," his attempt at coldness failed miserably, for her name came out as something between a sob and a whimper.

She looked up, a smile immediately creasing her face as she heard her name. A moment later, her smile faded and was replaced with a look of total bewilderment. "Sev...Snape?"

He cringed at the use of his surname...never once, in all their time at school, had she neglected to call him by anything other than his proper name. Even after the much-regretted encounter that day after the exam...she'd still been civil, at the very least...much more than he deserved...

"Yes, it's me," he almost whispered, stepping hesitantly toward her. "I wish to speak to you..."

But Lily had gotten hold of herself, and her incredulous look was replaced by one of total disgust. She gave him a glare seeped in contempt, and then once again turned towards her home. "I have nothing to say to you, Snape. Anything you needed to say you should've done a long time ago."

Seemingly unable to restrain himself, Snape took another hasty step forward. "Lily, wait..."

With a look over her shoulder that registered as fright, Lily picked up her pace, racing to her front door, when...

"_Locomotor Mortis_!" he bellowed the first thing that came to his mind, anything to stop her from getting away. Lily's legs snapped together rigidly, and with a squeak of terror she toppled over.

Snape was there in an instant, his arms sliding under her shoulders seconds before she hit the ground. He lifted her carefully, his hands clutching her to keep her balanced. But although her legs were useless, the rest of her body was perfectly fine, and within seconds she was flailing as hard as she could, as though for her life. "Let...me...go!" she shouted, thrashing so hard that Snape almost lost his grip.

Desperate, he pressed down harder, his hands locking together around her back, trying to hold her still. "Lily, please calm down..."

"GET AWAY FROM ME, DEATH EATER!" and she was sobbing, tears streaming out of her gorgeous emerald eyes...she didn't notice that his already-white face had taken on the texture of cold marble. And she didn't notice that she had thrown the worst possible daggers she could...the fact that she was shaking uncontrollably, so obviously afraid for her life...afraid of _him_...was worse than any curse she might've come up with.

"Lily...listen to me!" and his voice was like that of a tortured man. Haunting. Pleading. "You don't understand..."

"No, I _don't _understand!" although tears were still streaming down her face, she spoke clearly, unaffected by gasps or stutters. "I don't understand why you're doing this to me! Haven't you done enough? Haven't you hurt me enough to be satisfied?"

He froze, shock radiating out of his face. Lily, goaded into action, began struggling again, as though hoping if she moved fast enough the curse would be broken. But she remained locked in one spot, the man's grip on her upper arms so tight it was now painful. "I...I never meant to hurt you," he said in a constricted voice, the same old insistence echoing from fifth year. "And I wish it hadn't happened, that I could take it back..."

"Take it back!" she gave a derisive, tear-racked laugh. "But you can't take it back, can you Snape? You can't make peace with anything, and you won't leave me al..."

But he had suddenly exploded in an indignant fury. Now she was shaking once again as he forced both her hands behind her back, immobilizing them there with one of his own, his grip unendurably strong. He used his free hand to grip her chin, drawing her face within inches of his, and hissing, "_Don't call me that!_" there was a wild, animalistic gleam in his frantic black eyes. "It's me, Lily! It's Severus!"

She was horrified, and yet defiant, the result of a life built with the ever-arrogant James Potter. "No it isn't! Severus was my friend, and you..."

"AND I AM NOT?" his scream was sure to wake the Muggle neighbors, alert them to the skirmish. But for once, no one was prying in affairs not their own; the houses surrounding them remained still and silent. "I'm not the same one you knew in our youth? Why is that, Lily? Why are you so afraid of me?" his voice resembled the howl of a wild animal, more wolfish than even Remus could accomplish.

It seemed that she had finally realized just how far over the edge she had pushed him; when Lily spoke next, her voice was much lower than before, if no gentler. "Would you expect anything else? How can I not be afraid, Severus?"

His heart soared and broke, all at once. Wrenching his troubled emotions into check, he said softly, "Have I ever give you reason? In all the years we've known each other? I have no intention of hurting you, Lily! That is why I am here!" suddenly unable to stand her accusing look, he muttered the counter curse to set her free.

He expected her to run, but she didn't. Their gaze met. She was staring at him with an apprehensive skepticism, as though she were struggling with herself on his true intentions, and terrified for him to continue. But he must, and not even that heartbreaking look was going to stop him...

"You're in danger, Lily."

Nothing could have prepared him for what came next. Instead of appearing frightened or suspicious, Lily's vivid green eyes narrowed, and her voice was laced with sarcasm as she asked, "I thought you had no intention of hurting me?"

"It has nothing to do with me!" even as he said it, guilt thudded into Snape's gut like a cannonball, but he ignored it. "And this is not to be taken lightly! You must leave...go abroad, go into hiding, anything that will..."

"So this danger...it's only me? What about James and Harry? You know...my family?"

He gaped at her. How could he force her to understand? That her life was too important to lose, and sacrifices had to be made? Did he really expect this kind-hearted woman...who had given someone as undeserving as him so much...to casually forget the lives of the two people she loved most and save herself?

"You don't understand..."

"I understand perfectly," she cut him off, in a voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not an idiot, Severus. Everyone's in danger...but whatever happens, I intend to face it with my family. We'll get through it."

"No! You can't..."

And for the first time that night, for the first time in years...Lily reached up and touched him on the shoulder, her eyes boring into his. "There's nothing more for you to do, Sev," he trembled slightly at the use of his long-dead nickname. "I told you when we were seventeen...it's time to just walk away."

With a sad little smile on her face, she started to turn to her home...but Snape was too fast. Feeling horribly reminiscent of that night too long ago, he once again reached out and seized her wrist. "I can't, Lily. I can't just walk away..."

"You have to, Severus. I'm done," and with one last heartbreaking look, she bolted into her house.

He stood there as though carved from stone, staring at the little cottage he had thought of for so long...this had gone horribly wrong, quite possibly even worse than their very first encounter...

Lily wasn't going to save herself. She was going to stay with the pureblood toerag and their child. He really hadn't expected anything else, deep down. But just as he'd told her, walking away and leaving her was not an option. No matter the Dark Lord's promise...

There was one thing left to do...and the consequences, should the truth ever dribble out, would be dire. But he had no other alternative...there was now only one objective, and that was to save Lily Ev...Lily Potter's life.

And he happened to know exactly where to go.

The moon was now glinting brightly on the carefully tended lawns and fencerows. Severus Snape passed through the gate, pausing to cast one last glance at the house. In an upstairs window, he could see the delicate shadow of a mother holding her baby...

Almost without realizing it, Severus reached inside his robes and unearthed a tiny, careworn pin. He stared at it for a moment in the moonlight, its single pale eye glimmering at him, reminding him of all it stood for, all his responsibilities...

With one last look at the window, he placed the tiny ornament on the nearest fencepost, and Disapparated into the night.

---------------------------------------


	3. Anything in Return

Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, I'd currently be partying like a rockstar, instead of racking my brains for more ideas. : )

**A/N: Sorry for the long wait! But I'm back! **Beware of flashbacks, cause they're coming! Also, fluffiness ahead! All hands on deck! And towards the end it gets very JKR-y. You'll recognize what's hers when you see it!

-----------------------------------------

**III. Anything In Return**

The precious few trees that graced the windblown hilltop were naked and of little protection. The wind was screaming amongst them, louder and more horrible than a chorus of howling wolves. And it was in this tense, stiff atmosphere that Snape paced.

To the base of an oak tree, back around the boulder, through a thick patch of rustling leaves...Snape paced as though it were the answer to all his problems, the realization of all his dreams. His eyes were fixed steadfastly on the ground, and he gave the outward appearance of total control. Inside, however, he was steadily crumbling.

It was growing gradually darker, and the hastily-arranged meeting was approaching. He involuntarily winced at the prospect...although in all actuality, Snape no longer feared for his own life. The probability of being struck down now was very slight...after all, a kinder man the world had never known, and even on his determined quest to have victory over the Dark Lord, killing off one of his supporters wasn't his style. No, Albus Dumbledore was of no lethal threat...but even if he had been, there were much more important things to worry about.

Should Snape be killed, either by an Auror or even one of his peers, he wanted to make sure that Lily had the best protection possible. Dumbledore's resources were endless, and surely he would not question Snape's intentions when it came to Lily. Being quite possible the wisest man on earth, there was no way the headmaster could be oblivious to Snape's true feelings...

And even if he were killed, that hardly mattered anymore. If Lily...who was much too important to lose...was protected, then that was all that mattered. Now all he had to do was make sure Dumbledore was alerted before the Dark Lord could act, make sure he wasn't too late...he began pacing faster, wringing his hands...his only job was to protect Lily, just as it always had been...

_**-x-**_

A sparkling trail of green and silver confetti marked Snape's progress down the deserted corridor. He shook his head, cursing, as he clawed at the last remnants of glitter in his lank hair. The number of these blasted Slughorn parties was growing, along with his mounting impatience for them; he liked the Potions master, but the endless name-dropping and carefully measured gloating was slowly wearing him down.

He walked at a leisurely pace, keeping a wary eye out for prefects...he could no longer reap the benefits of a close personal friendship with the Head Boy, for Lucius Malfoy had graduated Hogwarts last summer. However, the threat of detention did not fuel his enthusiasm for returning to his common room; relieved as he was to be shot of Slughorn's party, he was no more willing to have to endure the other Slytherins' snide taunts about being a teacher's pet. None of his friends could figure out why he kept returning to the Slug Club, when he so venomously cut them down at every opportunity.

Snape paused in the hallway, feeling his throat constrict...the familiar swooping sensation of disappointment was enveloping him, as it had done the past few times he'd managed to sneak out of these little get-togethers. His almost obsessive desire to speak to Lily had been consuming him lately...enough to brave Slughorn's posse of stuck-up, well-connected trophies. Each time he'd embarked to the Potion teacher's office, sure this was the night he'd finally be able to have a real conversation with her...and each time, he'd been disappointed.

With a sigh, Snape resumed his slow trek down the darkened school corridor, his usual thoughts of Lily swirling around him. With the back-breaking amount of work the fourth years now found themselves under, his interaction with Lily had been limited to a quick wave from across the Great Hall and hurried whispers at their shared cauldron in Potions. There were few things he wouldn't give now for a real conversation with her, for unlimited time to talk and laugh as they used to do...

He froze in his tracks, squinting through the gloom down the hall. He had been so lost in his thoughts of Lily that he'd barely noticed the faint, low crying until he was almost upon it. But...no, it couldn't be. Although he'd know that voice anywhere, even though he'd never properly heard her crying...

Sure enough, Lily was tucked into an alcove usually occupied by a suit of armor, which had apparently gone off for a midnight stroll. Her knees were drawn up to her chest so that she was completely hidden, and her head was buried in her arms; she was clearly sobbing as though her heart had broken.

Snape stood completely still for a moment, marveling at his luck. In his head, when he'd pictured finally getting a one-on-one talk with Lily, she wasn't crying her eyes out. After a split-second, he snapped out of it and took a step forward.

"Lily? What's wrong?"

She started in surprise, and then peered blearily up at him through red-rimmed, never-the-less gorgeous green eyes. "Oh, hello Severus," she frantically attempted to swipe away her tears; a hopeless cause, seeing as how they were traveling determinedly down her face with no intention of stopping. "Nothing's wrong, I was just..."

Lily stopped with her explanation as Snape fell heavily to his knees, staring at her intently. He was now distinctly alarmed; the blotchiness of her skin suggested she had been crying for a very long time. "Yes there is. What's upset you?"

Lily now gave a haughty sniff, and once again tried to rid herself of the evidence of her anguish. "Nothing!" she snapped, almost angrily, as she made a move to stand. "And if there is I'm quite capable of dealing with it myself, I don't need...ouch!"

She had slipped on her cloak, which had been tucked beneath her. She fell back to the stone floor, brilliantly-curly hair obscuring her face. It was only then that she finally burst out, "All right! If you must know, it was that absolute prat James Potter and his stupid lot..."

A rage such as Snape had never known was boiling like hot water; he could feel the blood staining his pallid face crimson as he took hold of Lily's hands with his own and swiftly yet gently pulled her to her feet. "What did he do to you?" his voice was very quiet, although he could barely hear his words over the rush of speeding death echoing in his ears that would soon be Potter's...

But Lily had fixed him with a shrewd look. "Nothing you need to be aware of, Severus. It's not important, just them being idiots and me being too sensitive..."

"You're not too sensitive," he said it without meaning to, without really realizing it. "It's not your fault Potter and his mates are the spawn of Satan..."

Lily tried without success to suppress a giggle. Then, without warning, she leaned against Snape, positioned her head against his shoulder, and once again began crying as though she were never going to stop.

It was a wonderful example of irony, Snape mused as he tightened his arms around her back. How long had he waited for this moment? How longed had he yearned to come to Lily's rescue, to comfort her from that black-haired evil he knew resided in that damn dormitory? He'd longed to be there for her when she finally realized what a blasted creep Potter was, and hold her in his arms. And now the time had come, and instead of feeling absolute giddy about it, he felt horrible. But maybe this was proof of his intense love for her...he'd much rather have her happy and distant, than weeping heartbroken in his arms...

He was once again so very lost in his own thoughts that he didn't notice that Lily's sobs had subsided, and she was now merely quivering soundlessly against his shoulder. Hesitantly, almost experimentally, he reached up and threaded his long fingers through the tightly-curled spirals of red hair.

Lily didn't seem to mind; on the contrary, she locked her arms even tighter around his neck and sighed against his ear, "Oh Severus, why couldn't you be in Gryffindor?"

He fought the urge to laugh...he, Severus Snape, be placed in Gryffindor? Where the brave at heart dwell? Placed in a dorm alongside the gallant Potter, loyal Black, and intelligent Lupin? As though the heroic Godric Gryffindor wouldn't turn over in his highly jewel-encrusted grave...

Lily now shifted slightly and pulled away. Snape let his arms fall limply to his side, even though he wanted more than nothing else to stand like that for the rest of the night. Lily wiped her eyes one last time, and then gave him watery, beautiful smile. "Thanks, Sev...I don't know why I let those arrogant toerags upset me like this..."

"Don't be stupid," Snape told her shortly, now glancing around as though to make sure no one had been there, that no one would be able to spoil the golden moment he'd just experienced...

Lily sighed once again, and then reached out and took his hand, causing the hair along the back of his neck to rise. "Fancy walking me back to the Tower? Or are you afraid of an ambush?" she smiled teasingly.

He smiled back, deciding it not best to enlighten her that he'd gladly walk into an ambush of starving manticores if it meant ten minutes of her hand in his. "I suppose I can manage it. Should the need arise, however, I see no problem in throwing you in front of me."

She gave another soft laugh, and then set off down the darkened hallway. He followed the gentle pressure on his hand, head swimming with the intensity of it all...surely this was how it was meant, that he and Lily were meant to be here, hand in hand, with no one else around them to interfere...

_**-x-**_

The sudden cracking of a branch overhead wrenched Snape furiously back into the present. He shook his head to rid himself of the glorious vapors, tinged coppery red and emerald green. But when the delightful image of Lily and himself striding down the hallway faded, he was faced with a most unpleasant reality: he was alone atop a forlorn hill, waiting on the one who could either ease his deepest fear or increase it tenfold.

How long would it take Voldemort to ready himself for an attack on the Potters? Surely he would want it over with quickly...but he wanted to do it right. This could not be mangled, by any means. He would come up with a carefully constructed plan...hopefully it would take just long enough to get Lily, James, and their son into hiding. There was no other alternative...because Lily would survive; there would be no doubt to that fact. And as the image of Lily, green eyes staring unseeingly, erupted in Snape's mind, he began to pace more forcefully, hands twisting around his wand...

The sudden glare of a blinding streak of white illuminated the hilltop like a spotlight. All pretenses forgotten, Snape fell pathetically to his knees, casting his wand aside, and bawled, "Don't kill me!"

He shuddered against the light streaming from the wand; Albus Dumbledore, glowing unearthly in the pale moonlight, advanced through the mournful song of the wind. His silver beard gleamed, his white hair falling down to frame his icy blue eyes. Snape had never seen them look so hostile.

"That was not my intention."

There was a moment of awkward silence, in which each man stared at his opposition. Snape got heavily to his feet, shaking horribly, though it had little to do with the rushing wind. Dumbledore simply looked at him, sizing him up, then said matter-of-factly, "Well, Severus? What message does Lord Voldemort have for me?"

Snape winced visibly at the sound of his master's name...but no. Lord Voldemort no longer had control over him. Since the moment he had targeted Lily...the line had been drawn, and Snape, at least, knew exactly where his loyalties lie.

Dumbledore, however, didn't. It was for this reason that his voice quivered slightly as he replied, "No...no message...I'm here on my own account!" he fought to keep standing as he continued shakily with, "I...I come with a warning...no, a request...please..."

Dumbledore looked him straight in the eye, piercing blue into terrified black...and then with a casual wave of his wand, the torrent of howling wind ceased. It was with a touch of curiosity that the headmaster now asked, "What request could a Death Eater possibly make of me?"

Snape took a deep breath, trying to collect himself...he had been rehearsing this in his mind ever since disappearing from Lily's house hours earlier...he had known exactly what to say. But everything left him in a whirl of fog as he sputtered, "The...the prophecy! Trelawney's prediction!"

"Ah, yes," the wizard's normally kind eyes, which had lightened momentarily at the mention of Snape's request, now hardened once more. "How much did you relay to Lord Voldemort?"

"Everything I heard! That is why he thinks it means Lily Evans!"

A hint of understanding overtook the old man's face. "The prophecy does not refer to a woman," he said in measured tones. "It refers to a boy born at the end of July..."

_Born as the seventh month dies. _He could now recite the lines in his sleep, as they haunted his nightmares. He broke in over Dumbledore, desperate to get it over with, desperate to know she would be taken care of...

"You know what I mean! He thinks it means her son! He is going to hunt her down...kill them all..."

Albus Dumbledore considered him for a moment, as though debating what to say next. "If she means so much to you, surely Lord Voldemort will spare her? Could you not ask for mercy for the mother, in exchange for the son?"

He felt a blush working its way into his cold, pale face. "I have asked him..."

"You disgust me."

Had he lived to be as old as the man before him, Snape would never forget the anger, disbelief, and utter revulsion in his voice. His weathered face and alert eyes were filled with a raging fire, and Snape immediately drew back, fear ballooning in his chest.

"You do not care then, about the deaths of her husband and child? They can die, as long as you have what you want?"

Snape stared at him, thinking...all he wanted was that Lily be happy. That was something she could never be with him...he'd accepted that long ago, once he'd seen the true glow in her face whenever she was around Potter. The death of James Potter was not something Snape particularly wanted, although should it come between him and his wife...

But Lily loved him, and without him and her boy, would never be truly happy. There was only one thing Snape wanted...

"Hide them all, then. Keep her...keep them safe! Please!"

Something flashed through Dumbledore's eyes...he sounded merely politely curious as he asked, "And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

"In...return?" Snape was floored. What _would _he give in return for the safety of Lily Potter, his best friend, his confidant, the kindest woman he had ever come in contact with? He'd give his heart, soul, his last breath of life...

"Anything."

A/N: That was sort of long...I hope you guys enjoyed it! Got a bit more coming...but only if you review!


	4. Pain of the Truth

**Disclaimer: Lowly Muggles such as myself don't deserve to own Harry Potter. And so, I don't.**

**A/N: Over 800 views, and a mere 11 reviews? You all disgust me! Click the button! But to my faithful (who don't sink my battleship) I humbly thank you: Snow Empress, paulalou, dcscprincess, foreverforgetful, razzmataz, Emilie Rose, duj, and MagicalMe5. **

------------------

IV: Pain of the Truth 

_Those malicious hazel eyes were taunting him ruthlessly. Amidst a delighted scream of united laughter, James Potter flicked his wand casually, sending Snape toppling to the ground, his thin face grinding into the dirt. His wild, frantic breath was coming in sharpened gasps, and he was powerless against the bullies that had made his life hell for the past five years..._

"_LEAVE HIM ALONE!"_

_And then Snape was drowning in a wave of his own shame and rage. It was bad enough that Potter and Black couldn't resist any possible opportunity to humiliate him, but why...why...must they do it in front of Lily? The thought of having her stand up for him, when he couldn't even stand up for himself, was almost too much to bear, and he struggled uselessly against the curse restraining him..._

"_Ah Evans, don't make me hex you," Potter's voice was playful and teasing...the fact that he was humiliating a fellow classmate caused him no more shame than it did the giant squid. _

_But Lily's voice was full of rage as she shrieked, "Take the curse off him, then!"_

_She was the only one for whom Potter would comply, and as Snape realized this, a fresh wave of what felt to be nausea rose in his throat. His jealously, shame, and pure hatred for the Gryffindor boy in front of him rendered him almost incapable of moving; as he struggled to his feet, Potter said resentfully, "You're lucky Evans was here, Snivellus."_

"_I don't need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!" _

_There was a brief second in which time seemed to come to a standstill; Snape, gritting his teeth furiously, cast one glance around for the soon-to-be deadman that had just uttered that foul word...and then with a jolt, realized it had come from his own mouth, and the surprised, hurt look on Lily's face was directed straight at him..._

The distant tolling of a church bell joggled Snape awake; he jerked upright, drenched in a cold sweat, and stared around the tiny room. He had fallen asleep in his sitting room, hunched in the shabby armchair...that had been hours ago. It was very late.

Muttering about the uncomfortable catch in his neck, Snape stood and gathered an armful of heavy, leather-bound books from the rickety table. He strode over to the book-covered walls, sliding each thick volume into its appropriate space. He struggled to ease one particularly bulky one into its slot, cursing the darkness and wondering how long the candle had been out...

A thunderous rapping at the door sent a cascade of brown-leather hardbacks thudding to the floor. With the agility of a man much younger, Snape whipped a thin wooden wand from inside his black robes, holding it over his head like a dagger as he stared at the front door.

"Yes?"

There was a moment's pause. Then..."Disturbing your beauty rest am I, old friend?"

Snape slowly allowed his muscles to relax, and with a casual wave over his shoulder, ignited the single candle hanging by the ceiling. Then he hurried over to the door, drew back the bolt, and cracked it.

A pair of icy steel-gray eyes looked back at him from a narrow and pale face. Snape quickly opened the door, exclaiming, "Lucius! Come in, come in!"

Lucius Malfoy stepped over the threshold, letting his black hood fall from his sleek blonde hair. The two men grasped hands briefly, and Snape invited Malfoy to have a seat on the couch. The older man complied, but his cold gray eyes never left his host. "It has been a while, Severus. How are you?"

"Ah, as well as is to be expected," Snape said lightly, busying himself with what remained of the bloodred wine he had consumed at dinner. He poured two goblets, and then returned to his patched armchair, passing one of the two drinks to Malfoy. "But tell me, how are Narcissa and Draco?"

"They are very well," Malfoy informed him; as he looked at him properly for the first time, Snape noticed a glint of excitement dancing in the Death Eater's eyes. "As am I...and as you shall be, once you've heard my very relieving news!"

Snape returned his goblet to the rickety table, leaning closer to his guest with curiosity. "You know of something I don't, my friend. May I be enlightened?"

In a tone of great triumph, Lucius Malfoy told him, "It has happened at last, Severus. The Dark Lord's path to power is clear once again!"

And with those words, the world seemed to spin before Snape's very eyes. He willed his face into an expression of disbelieving delight as he stammered, "But...surely you don't mean...?

"Ah, but I do mean it, Severus!" Malfoy leaned further still, his face half in shadow from the guttering candle. "It seems that someone in their midst has turned traitor...less than two hours ago, the Potter's exact location was finally revealed!"

Snape took the blow stoically enough, and displayed no emotion whatsoever. His black eyes were empty, expressionless, as he stared at the man across him from. Inside his head, however, his mind was whirring furiously...this couldn't be, there was surely some mistake...or perhaps this was a ploy by Dumbledore, to keep the Dark Lord on the wrong track...

"Who was the traitor?"

"I do not know," Malfoy shrugged. "And I don't believe it matters...the Dark Lord never reveals the identity of anyone, should we not need to know it. The information was relayed directly to him, I believe."

Snape was listening with half an ear...so Voldemort knew where Lily was. There was his promise to spare her, after all...a promise he would be sure to break, had he half the chance. But there was also Dumbledore...and if Snape could leave right now, alert the Headmaster this had happened, then the worst may be avoided. It would be too much to hope that the Dark Lord would not figure out his double agent then, but that was unimportant...Lily's face was swimming in his mind's eye, he had to get out of here to save her...

"Do you know when the Dark Lord plans to...er...rid himself of the obstacles?"

And it was now, perhaps, that Lucius's eyes glittered the most dangerously. With an air of great satisfaction, he leaned forward and confided, "He is to waste no time with this opportunity, Severus. He has embarked for their location immediately."

The world turned black.

------------

The winged stone boars that flanked the Hogwarts drive were splashed with silvery moonlight. Snape hurried through the gates, transitioning from a brisk walk to a sprint, slowing only to throw open the huge front door and burst into the silent Entrance Hall.

Getting rid of Lucius Malfoy had been close to impossible...once the Death Eater had finally satisfied himself with Snape's reaction and taken his leave, Severus had wasted a fair few moments pacing his sitting room, debating his next move. He wanted nothing more than to Apparate instantly to the Potter's safe house...but he had no idea as to where it was. That, after all, was the power of the Fidelius Charm. When that option was discarded, he could think of only one more: to go straight to Dumbledore, and hope against hope that this was a clever ploy to send Voldemort in the wrong direction...

The gargoyle guarding Dumbledore's office roared indignantly to life as Snape practically screamed, "CHOCOLATE FROG!" at it. Snape hurtled into the Headmaster's living quarters, pausing only to draw breath. The silver instruments that littered the room were twinkling in the light streaming in from the window...with a heavy feeling like lead in his stomach, Snape began pacing the floor, willing the old man to walk in...

He was unaware how long he paced, how many hours had crept by, when the door of the office finally swung open, and Albus Dumbledore entered. He was wearing a thick purple traveling cloak, and looked much older than Snape had ever seen him.

Dumbledore looked very unsurprised to see Snape there; he took a long moment to untie his cloak and remove it. Then, without preamble, he looked straight into those hollow black eyes and said quietly, "I'm so sorry, Severus."

There was no need for any more explanation; in a dizzying whirl of color, Snape felt the feeling in his legs disappear, and he sank into a chair by the desk. Images were flashing through his mind, much too fast to be comprehended...they were jumbled together, melting into a splash of fiery red hair, and eyes greener than the springtime grass...Lily sailing off the swing into the air, Lily laughing uproariously at Professor Slughorn in Potions, Lily gripping his hand so tightly he felt it would fall off...

Snape could feel her hand in his, and he clenched his fists to tight his nails bore into the flesh. He moaned, feeling suddenly very lightheaded, and had no choice but to listen, listen to everything Dumbledore was telling him: the Dark Lord was gone...destroyed. But all that paled in comparison, and Snape finally managed to gasp out, "I thought...you were going...to keep her...safe!" and he wasn't crying...for he knew that if he started he would never stop, he would simply cry until his body shriveled up and he died...

"She and James put their faith in the wrong person. Rather like you, Severus. Weren't you hoping that Lord Voldemort would spare her?"

Snape heaved in a breath, hating the old man...how could he remind him of it at a time like this? And no, he had never really believed she would be spared; why else would he risk everything to seek out Dumbledore, to ensure her safety?

"Her boy survives."

Snape twitched involuntarily, but otherwise did not acknowledge him. How could he spare relief for the boy? He was not even curious as to how the son had managed to escape. All he could see through the tunnel in his mind was the loss of Lily, and how he had brought it about...

"Her son lives. He has her eyes, precisely her eyes. You remember the shape and color of Lily Evan's eyes, I am sure?"

"DON'T!" how could he do this? How could Snape not remember her eyes, the exact size, shape, and color of them? "Gone...dead..."

"Is this remorse, Severus?"

"I wish...I wish I were dead." He'd see Lily again...yes, being dead would be quite a comfort to him...if only he could just drop dead right now. But he was not as brave as Lily, and never would be...

"And what use would that be to anyone? If you loved Lily Evans, if you truly loved her, then your way forward is clear."

It was too much. It was too much to have to sit here, and listen to Dumbledore lecture him about his way forward...there was no moving forward! It all stopped here...his life had been leading up to this point, and now there was nothing left for him to do. His mind was in a frenzy, his body shaking uncontrollably. Without a backward glance at Dumbledore, Snape leapt from his seat and tore out of the office, all the way down into the fresh sweeping lawn; his eyes were oddly dry as he flung himself through the boar-flanked gates, and vanished.

-----------

**A/N: Only one more chapter! PLEASE review! I ain't too proud to beg! **


	5. Precisely Her Eyes

Disclaimer: Me? JK Rowling? Yeah, right...

A/N: I know it's a bit long, but to split it into two chapters would make no sense. And this chapter is also pretty much one big flashback. But I hope you enjoy it! Ahoy, Captain! Fluffiness ahead!

V. Precisely Her Eyes

The remains of the Potter house stood smoldering slightly on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow; the top right corner of the house had been blasted to pieces, and a thick layer of rubble coated the yard. The swarm of Ministry Law Enforcement members that had recently stood ogling the sight had dispensed, and now there was no disturbance expect for the saddened whisper of wind. It was an otherwise gorgeous Halloween night, with a gleaming orange moon bathing the village in a soft sheen and colorful leaves rustling on a nearby tree.

And Snape was in hell.

The moment he had vanished into thin air outside the Hogwarts gates, he had materialized here in the legendary, cozy Godric's Hollow. Now that the Fidelius Charm was no longer casting protection upon the house, only the intense picture of Lily that was etched into his skull was needed.

He was moving as though in a dream...no, as in a nightmare. He knew there was no way possible that Lily and James were still here...they had been removed almost directly after the half-giant had rescued the boy.

_The boy. _Snape's lip curled as a rage he didn't know existed overpowered him. How could this have happened? The boy was supposed to be dead, not Lily! How could the Dark Lord have gotten it completely backwards? _Why _had he not simply forced Lily to come with him that night he'd caught her alone? Why hadn't he just kidnapped her, forced her to go into hiding, happiness be damned?

He stepped dazedly over the small fence and picked his way carefully through the destruction. Blackened debris were still smoldering with the blast from the backfired spell, and splinters were embedded in every surface as though forced there by a tornado. As Snape walked, he began to experience the most curious feeling...it was of letdown. How could Lily have done this to him? How could she have left him forever, when it had always been she that could solve every problem?

Snape sank to his knees amongst the wreckage, unsure as to why the grief hadn't hit him yet. He still expected to look up at any second and see Lily, her long red hair flowing behind her, coming to comfort him, as she always had done...

_**-x-**_

The reflection in the mirror left much to be desired. This was Snape's exact thought as he eyed himself critically; his bare chest was very pale and thin, and distinctly lacking the well-toned abs that were a perk of playing Quidditch. And his hair, God forbid! It may be the same inky-black as James's, but with none of the messy elegance. However, he had to admit it was looking much better now that he had spent the entire morning in the shower, scrubbing his body with the best-smelling soap they owned. This was a much too important day to mess up, after all.

It was the beginning of their Christmas holidays, and Snape had been invited to have lunch at Lily's house with her family...excluding Petunia, who had fairly screamed when her parents informed her of the arrangements. Snape had always been very surprised at Mr. and Mrs. Evans's kindness towards him...he supposed Lily might've had something to do with it. But he'd take any opportunity he got to get himself out of this hell of place he called home; Tobias had taken to celebrating the holidays with a bit more alcohol than was completely necessary.

Speaking of his father, Severus could hear him stumbling around downstairs, accompanied every so often by a drunken slur. He shook his head resentfully, swiping one last time at his less-than-impressive hair...

It happened quite suddenly: without warning, the bathroom door burst open, and Snape gave a start of surprise and leapt back. There stood Tobias, well wrapped in his patched and frayed overcoat, a wild and furious glare in his pitiless eyes. He cast one look around the small room, at the generous puddles of water and damp surfaces that were the result of Severus's grooming. He then glared his son in the eye, slurring madly, "Just what in the bloody hell do you think you're doing!"

Snape, who was used to his father's alcohol-induced rages but not at all fond of them, was quite wary. "I was taking a shower, Father," he said shortly, at the same time turning his back on Tobias and reaching out for a T-shirt.

The next thing he felt was considerable pain: his father had lunged at him, and although he was very unsteady on his feet, managed to connect a fist to the side of Snape's face. He went spiraling into the slick bathtub, his ears ringing as his head throbbed. "Don't you turn that back on me, boy!" Tobias screamed, grabbing onto the basin for support.

Snape lay facedown, not wanting to rise until he was quite sure his father had gone. Maybe if he did not provoke it, if he just lay still...

But Tobias did not leave; he merely stumbled around the bathroom, muttering angrily, "As if I didn't know what all this was about...as if I didn't know where you've been sneaking off to...it's that little red-haired tramp down the way, there..."

Snape did not remember scrambling up from the water-slick bathtub, nor did he remember launching himself at his father. When he regained consciousness, it was to a heavily-bleeding lip and a sharp intake of breath as he felt a stabbing pain shoot through his middle. One glace at his body revealed that the whole left side of his ribs was a blossoming bruise of black and blue...his father had outdone himself this time.

He was not sure whether the elder Snape was still in the house, or whether he had simply passed out in the darkened solitude of their bedroom. All he knew was that he must get out of this prison, before he took his wand and cursed Tobias into something foul and slimy...

Severus paused only to grab his T-shirt, which was little protection against the bitter chill of the wind outside. He went flying through the door, unaware as to where he was going; Lily's house was, of course, out of the question. He could not force his company upon them now, not during a time when they should be celebrating. He could not do that do Lily.

He had nowhere special to go, and was not feeling up to being stared at by the occupants as he passed various houses, so he directed his footsteps towards the river. It was sloshing at the banks, looking icy-gray and miserable in the cold winter air. Snape made his way slowly along its edges, until he came to...as he knew he would...the old, derelict playground where he had spent much of his youth. The two rickety swings were creaking mournfully, and the lower end of the see-saw looked to be embedded in the earth; it was clear this place had not been visited for a very long time.

Snape gingerly sat on a frost-covered stump, taking care not to injure his aching ribs further. Fury was boiling over at his father, but he could also taste bitter disappointment along with it...he had so been looking forward to this day.

Although the wintry air did nothing to lift his spirits, he sat in the playground for a very long time; long enough for the sun to begin making its way back down to a lime-green horizon, and send a blast of orange rays over the snow, illuminating it...

"Pretty, isn't it?"

He tensed automatically. With his own swirling thoughts and the slight creaking of the equipment around him, he had not heard her approaching. Forcing all the energy he had into working his expression into one of mild indifference, he glanced up.

She was dressed in a thick green sweater that brought out her eyes perfectly and protected her against the worst of the elements. Although she was fond of wearing her hair tied back in a bun, today it was free and clinging to her neck, adding warmth. Stunning as always, of course.

Snape realized he was staring, and quickly averted his gaze back to the sunset. "If you like that sort of thing, I suppose."

If she noticed the sourness of his tone, she didn't comment. There was a thick and billowing silence for what seemed like hours before Lily finally said quietly, "So...what happened to you today?"

She would never know if he could help it. There would be no way of ever facing her again, should she find out that he was so less a wizard that he couldn't fend off his own father. "Something came up," he said quietly, trying to sound casual.

"Oh," she didn't sound angry or even curious.

And then the silence fell once more. Snape knew he would never be able to handle it, so he said haltingly, "Lily...I would rather be alone...right now," it all but broke his heart to ask her to leave, but should he completely break down in front of her he would never forgive himself.

"Okay," and the next second, Lily had walked around him and sank sideways into his lap. Snape twitched involuntarily as she slung one arm around his neck and said cheerfully, "I was thinking the same thing. Now we can be alone together." She then leaned her head against his shoulder; he could feel her warm breath on the side of his neck, and his heart shot straight into his throat.

They sat like that for a moment, completely still...and then in a moment of blind courage, Snape cautiously slid his arm around Lily's waist, holding her steady on his lap. As if in response, she lifted her hand and began to run her fingers slowly through the length of his hair. Snape almost fainted in a panic before he remembered that he had washed it just that morning. As though she could read his mind, Lily said lazily against his ear, "Your hair's really soft."

Snape smirked. "Don't let Potter and his mates hear you saying that."

Lily paused for a moment, and then resumed the stroking of his hair. "You should know better than to give a damn about what Potter says. He's saying it to get attention."

"I assumed as much."

They lapsed back into silence. Snape was mentally constructing something to say...and also, enjoying the feel of Lily's fingers raking his scalp...when she said, quite suddenly, "Sev...was it your dad?"

She made an effort to make it sound casual, but her grip on his neck was now so tight it was painful. Snape immediately felt his eyes burn, and felt relieved that she was positioned so that she couldn't see. Not trusting himself to speak, he merely nodded several times, subconsciously tightening the arm around her waist.

Lily pulled back, her eyes searching his face; she looked on the verge of tears. "I thought it might be, when you didn't come over. I'm so sorry...would you like to go to my house now? I think Mum still has some turkey she can make into sandwiches, if you'd like."

How did she expect him to go in and face her parents at a moment like this? They would surely take one look at his bedraggled appearance and cast him out like yesterday's rubbish. And what would her sister say? He was not in the mood to have to deal with her horrid Muggle attitude...

"...be so disappointed that she didn't see you, and Petunia's away at a friend's house for the day, so you won't have to worry about her getting on your nerves...she gets on my nerves enough for the both of us."

Snape could not help but smile slightly at Lily's endless chatter. Even though she must've figured out what was going on, she was still making the best attempt to stay cheerful. And the last thing he wanted to do was go back to that drunk-haven...

"Okay...just for a while, though."

Beaming, Lily clambered off his lap and nonchalantly grabbed his hand. "And don't mind Dad if he's being a bit...well, jolly. He uses Christmas as ammunition for embarrassment, it's the only conclusion we can come to..."

Snape let her ramble on and on as they made their slow way along the riverside towards Lily's house. He was once again painfully aware of his hand in hers, and realized fleetingly that this was the first time they had touched like this since after Slughorn's party, when he had walked her back to her dorm. That had been last year...so many times he could've had, there were so many chances he might've taken...why wouldn't he just own up and tell Lily exactly how he felt?

As he should've well expected, Mrs. Evans welcomed him into their home at once, shooing them upstairs so she could make some sandwiches. They paused briefly in the study to say hello to Mr. Evans, who tried without success to lure Snape into a discussion on Muggle sports.

He had been in Lily's room once before, but that had been quite a while back, and he had forgotten just how bright and cheery it was, or how the pictures and clippings that covered the purple walls were such a wonderful representation of Lily's character. It was quite a contrast to the bleak dark papering in his room. And to think that Lily had requested to see his home several times! That, he mused, would never come to reality, if he had anything to do with it.

"Well, go ahead and sit down!" Lily told him, pushing him lightly onto the bed.

Snape complied, sitting down gingerly and wincing at the thought of his soiled and filthy clothes on her immaculate bedspread. If Lily minded then she kept it her little secret, and proceeded to bustle about the room, throwing things into drawers and onto shelves. "Don't mind the floor, it's an absolute mess...Mum's been begging me to clean for ages, but I can't bring myself to..."

He listened to her with a half-smile on his face...although part of him desperately wanted her to bring up the subject of tension, the other part of him was relieved she was trying to avoid it. Maybe he could just stay here for a few hours, and then go home to a passed-out father and try to forget today had ever happened. This course of action, however, was blown from the water mere moments after he planned it.

"So you never told me what you wanted for Christmas!" Lily said brightly, arranging a few stuffed animals artfully on her mantle.

"Neither have you," he replied quietly, hoping she felt up to teasing. "I was considering making you a copy of my Potions book, so you wouldn't have to keep thieving mine...old Slughorn would die on the spot should he find out his Potions Princess isn't up to scratch, wouldn't he?"

Lily attempted to look affronted. "You love having me steal your book," she said smugly, coming over and collapsing onto the bed beside him. "It gives you a reason to get closer to me."

At this statement, Snape felt his face flush; before he could defend himself, there was a sharp pain racing through his body...Lily, upon landing, had accidentally brushed his side with her elbow. His next conscious thought was lying on his stomach in the floor, holding his ribs with both hands. Lily stood over him, her hands clamped over her mouth and her eyes wide, locked on the black bruise that had blossomed against his pale skin.

"Severus!" her tone was disbelieving and pained. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It is _nothing_!" Snape grunted, struggling to rise to his knees. The next moment, he felt Lily's hands on his shoulders as she slowly helped him back onto the bed.

"Nothing! It's a lot more than nothing! What's wrong with you, Severus Snape? Why didn't you tell me about this right off?" her hands were now on the hem of his T-shirt, dragging it slowly up over his head...

"Lily! Stop it!" Snape desperately attempted to ward her off...he would never live down the shame of having her see his pale, skinny body. No physical pain could possibly be as bad...

Or maybe it could...Snape's struggles were only injuring his ribs further, and any movement increased the pain tenfold. Defeated, he could only sit still while Lily continued to work the shirt over his head...finally, she managed to remove it and drop it to the floor. He sat there bare-chested, feeling his entire body coloring...this was the most humiliating day of his life, not to mention one of the most painful...

Lily's fingers were excruciatingly gentle as she placed a feather-light touch against his blackened ribcage. He expected pain to come, but none did. "Severus," tears were now streaming out of her eyes as she looked up at him. "How could he do this to you?"

He hated seeing her cry. "Oh, it's actually relatively easy for him," he said lightly, hoping it might calm Lily down. If anything, it made her worse.

"And now you're joking about it!" she shrieked. In one fluid movement, she got to her feet and crossed the room, where she began digging in a drawer.

"Er...Lily? What are you doing?"

She came back, brandishing what looked to be an ordinary Muggle camera...her mouth was set in an angry line. "Fixing this. We're gonna put that bastard away for a long time. We have to take pictures of your bruises, Sev. It'll help the police catch this creep."

When he understood her plan, Snape recoiled. "I can't do that! The beating I'd get then would make this seem like a slap on the wrist!"

He knew at once this was the wrong thing to say, because Lily paled. Then without warning, she cast her camera aside and fell to the bed beside him, sobbing. "I can't b-believe you're going t-t-to let him g-get away with this!"

"Lily, don't cry, please don't cry!" as much as his hurt side would allow, Snape eased over to her and put an arm around her shaking shoulders. "It's my fault as much as his. I have to learn to stay out of his way." When this did nothing to pacify her, Snape sighed and added, "It's not going to happen again, Lily."

She looked up at him suspiciously. "Do you promise?"

"I promise," he said earnestly.

She continued to gaze at him for a moment through red-rimmed eyes, and then relented. "If you swear, then I'll let it go," she sighed. "But Sev...you really should tell someone."

"I've already done that," he said quietly, black eyes ever leaving green. Lily appeared to have caught the implication, for she blushed. She cast a glance around for a moment to regain her composure, and her gaze landed on the discarded camera.

"Can I at least have a picture? Without the bruises," she added impatiently, as she caught the look on his face. "Here," and she tossed his shirt back to him as she picked up the camera.

The last thing Snape wanted was to have a visual record of the most humiliating night of his life. However, he decided that it was a small price to pay, and allowed Lily to position him the way she wanted on the bed. Once she was satisfied, she sank down beside him, and held up the camera so that they were both reasonably in the frame.

"Smile."

_**-x-**_

A projection of something half-buried in the rubble sent Snape tumbling face down to the earth. He lay there for a few moments, and for the first time since he found himself playing double agent for the world's two most powerful wizards, he seriously considered not getting back up. What purpose would it prove?

And then something was moving, mere feet away from him. Snape was on his feet in an instant, wand out and the tip glowing...he was not alone, something was here with him. It was Lily...back from the grave to tell him it was all a huge misunderstanding...

A huge orange tabby cat burst from under a leaning slab of wood and took off across the damaged yard, its fluffy tail pointed straight up. Snape allowed his wand arm to relax; he made a move to follow the cat out of the destruction...and then realized that his foot was still hooked on whatever had made him fall.

It was a box...a rather unimpressive one, if truth be told. It was made of shiny mahogany wood, and wasn't large enough to hold anything of any real importance. But something about it...something about the way it felt against his hands, made Snape fumble with the tiny clasp that opened it.

The first thing he spotted when he opened it was a letter...a letter written in short, stubby penmanship, a man's writing. Snape scanned the first few lines of the letter and realized it was written by none other than good old Sirius Black. His lip curled as he reached in to push it aside...and as he did, he caught sight of the first line...

_Dear Lily:_

Lily...so the murderer had kept in correspondence with her, even though her fool of a husband had never lacked for his company. But whatever else it meant, it also meant that this box belonged to Lily...these were her things.

As though he were an eager child on Christmas morning, Snape fell to his knees once again and began sifting through the box. There were things that would otherwise have held no interest to him, but the fact that they had once been lovingly placed here by Lily gave them heartfelt new meaning. He examined each item carefully...most were letters, written by a large variety of people. There was also a birth certificate...Harry, that was the child's name...and a small silver necklace he could remember her wearing from her first days at Hogwarts.

Snape impatiently pushed aside a few clippings from the _Daily Prophet_...and felt his heart catch in his throat. There at the very bottom of the little box was a photograph...it was creased and looked as though it had been handled roughly at some point, but it was also well-worn, as thought it had been taken out and gazed upon many times.

It was the photograph of Snape and Lily on her bed all those days ago.

Swallowing with difficulty, Snape pulled it from the box and examined it closely...there were fingerprints coating it, and a fine layer of dust had settled on it in the mere moments it had been out of the its resting place. But it was there. There, in a box of things she'd treasured most. A single tear slid out of Snape's eye as he carefully lowered the picture to the small pile of items beside the box. There was now only one thing left.

Perhaps he'd known that he'd find it here somewhere...perhaps that was the reason he had come. And there it was...the tiny careworn golden pin that he had left on her fencepost had been residing at the bottom of Lily's box ever since. The representation of what she hated most...the representation of _him..._but she couldn't have hated him...she hadn't...

And Snape was crying as he had never cried before. Stretched out flat in the shadow of what remained of Lily's house, Severus Snape sobbed as though his heart were breaking. Every image of Lily that had haunted him since the age of eleven was flashing through his brain. Flying through the air off the swingset, holding his hand as they strolled down the hall, sobbing as she thrashed and fought against him, begged him to let her go...begged him to let her go so she could die along with her family...

Snape staggered to his feet, unaware of where his body was taking him. Gripping the pin in one hand and the photo in the other, he fought his way out to the gate, where he latched onto the fence for support. Through streaming eyes he looked once more at Lily's home, where she had come to be protected...no, where she had come to protect her family. Because once you got right down to it that was all she'd ever wanted.

-----------

Fawks was slumbering peacefully on his perch, unaware of any death or destruction, when the door to Dumbledore's office burst open yet again. The Headmaster remained completely still, not looking up from his silent vigil as Snape stumbled over the threshold.

"I'll do it."

Albus Dumbledore looked up, as if just now realized the man was there. "Do what, Severus?"

"I'll protect the child...anything...anything you need!" he did his best to sound brave, but there was still a faint tremor in his voice.

The old man seated before him considered him for a moment, then with an agility surprising for a man his age, got to his feet and moved around to the cabinet where his Pensieve was stored. He set the device on a small table, and then gestured for Snape to come and have a look.

He moved cautiously, as though he was unsure whether to trust the old man or not. When he reached the small table and peered inside, he felt his muscles contract.

The image before him was one of Lily and James's son...Harry. He was a small boy with a tuft of jet black hair, lying in a small blanket on his uncle's doorstep. He squirmed for a moment in sleep, and then without warning, his eyes flew open. They were a pure emerald green, impossible to be mistaken for any other color. Snape stared at him, at this child who was so obviously a product of his childhood friend...

Dumbledore, who had been very quiet until that point, said softly, "You remember the exact shape and color of Lily's eyes, I assume? Harry does seem to have her eyes, doesn't he?"

The color of her eyes, the scent of her hair, the feel of her fingers on his skin...oh yes. He remembered.

"Precisely her eyes."

------------------------

A/N: Cheesy enough for you? I enjoyed it, at any rate. Please review, rather good or bad!


End file.
